My colleagues invite me to lunch, or to go for a walk, but I decline. This little quiet corner of the office is just fine with me. My partner has been doing the shopping. I'm overwhelmed in public spaces.
It's no surprise I sometimes don't recognize myself in mirrors. I'm trying to focus on sharing my story, but I'm dissociating and having a hard time remembering those people inside.
I'm functional, but dissociating. I go to work and do work and go home. It's nearly impossible to go to the store or visit friends. I have the need to exist solely in well-known safe and quiet places. My throat begins to close if I think about any variance from a well-worn path.
Sometimes I don't realize I've been avoiding my own reflection until I catch a glimpse of it.
I must have seen a half dozen psychologists in as many years. Why couldn’t any of them figure out what was wrong with me?
The worst part is when I don't recognize my own words, or don't recall typing them out or writing them down. At all.
Feeling suspicious or out of touch with reality. One symptom of borderline personality disorder.
I guess I'm lucky. I don't remember the first assault. The one I know happened, but don’t remember exactly when, or who was involved.
Here’s the thing: I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t mentally ill.
The writing process has not been easy because of borderline personality disorder. I can write something one day and revisit it in a week and not recognize my own words. Bear with me.